
Class Ps..3.;r3:r 
Book_^J 3 ^ .5" P<^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



POEMS 

OF 

THE AFTERMATH 



POEMS 

OF 

THE AFTERMATH 

BY O-R 



. J*9-2*2 






Copyright by Oscar Richardson 



©CI.A692328 

Thomas Todd Co., Printers, Boston 

DEC 11 "22 



CONTENTS 

War and Peace 

Self Determination 

Portraits 

Meditations 

Nature 

Our Crisis 



TO MY WIFE 

O, beautiful her friendly spirit gleams, 
A fair oasis on the sands of time* 



FOREWORD 

Sometime agfo Mn Todd printed for me a little book 
of verse* The several attempts it contained, to give 
thougfhts expression in verse, were at that time in a 
more or less unfinished state; but I wished to have 
many of my old friends read them, and so sent them 
out as they were* Since then I have completed them 
and written others, with a translation or two, and Mr* 
Todd has again made a book of them, the genuine 
workmanship of which speaks for itself* 

For secretarial work and the privilege of unusual 
books in her library, I am indebted again to Miss 
Louella D* Everett* 

I remember well and cherish as one of the fine things 
in my life, the friendly, unfailing interest in my first 
poems of one who has gone before* 

Still his lamp illumes the Way, 
Still his voice sounds trumpet calls. 
As in memory he returneth 
And my soul with thought enthralls* 
J922 



WAR AND PEACE 



THE RETURN OF THE YANKEE DIVISION 
OVER HERE 



War and Peace ti 



THE RETURN OF THE YANKEE DIVISION 

By the rude bridge that arched the flood. 
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 

Here once the embattled farmers stood. 
And fired the shot heard round the world. 

— Emerson, 

The Drums of War awake the land 

And the rigfhteous wrath of the Nation falls, 
While the faith of the men who held the bridge, 
Now leads their sons to cross the seas, 
Where Freedom^s battle trumpet calls. 

At home, their Service Star of "Blue 

Is hedged in glory on the window-pane. 
And oft on vision^s magic screen, 
They rise from trenched camps to charge 
Through Hell of battle lines aflame* 

Some live, and Service Stars look down 

On hearts uplifted hopefully, 
But some give all, and Glory turns 
Their Stars of Blue to Stars of Gold, 

To light the way to Victory* 



They triumph on that distant bourne. 

But Oh at home, with grateful hearts. 

We long for their return* 
The home fires burn, the feast is spread. 

And chairs are set where wreaths are hung 

For the living and the dead* 
The portals of our hearts and homes 

Are open wide, — Oh enter in! 

April, m% 



J 2 Poems of the Aftermath 



OVER HERE 
Tone of ** Scots Wha Hac ** 

Yanks, who have for Freedom bled; 
Yanks, whom General Edwards led, 
Welcome to Old Boston's spread, — 
Love and jobs galore* 

Yanks, with Freedom for their slogan; 
Yanks, who fought with Cole and Logan; 
Well, you are Old Boston's vogue — an' 
Loved for evermore* 

April, J9J9. 



THE AFTERMATH OF WAR 
PAEAN TO THE IMMORTALS 



Wat and Peace J5 



THE AFTERMATH OF WAR 

War is Sorrow, 

But tjpon the glad tomorrow, 

And 'tis waged for Freedom, 

Comes this solace in the after years, 

War is Sorrow 

Crowned triumphant in her tears* 

April, J9J9. 



J 6 Poems of the Aftermath 



PAEAN TO THE IMMORTALS 

A Song of Triumph^ soul rejoicing, 

Freemen's hearts forever send 
Unto you beloved Immortals, 

Sacrificed to life's great end* 
Through you the heritage descendeth, 

Born of some Indwelling Fire, 
That lights the tablelands of Freedom, 

Long the goal of man's desire* 
On every tableland ascended 

Still the Fire undying flamed. 
With one clear thought his soul inspiring, 

Freedom Greater must be gained* 
Descending still through living: portals. 

To our Freemen came the thought, 
A Fiery Cross, with war-cry calling 

Arm for Freedom, wait for nought; 
On Flanders' Fields your Deathless Triumph 

Gains for man the Freedom sought* 
Then Sorrow in her silence weeping, 

"With a glory now is crowned. 
Where the ashes of our Freemen 

Hallow there the sea and ground* 
Immortals now in life's great story. 

Stars of Gold and Victory, 
Ever chanting of the Fields of Glory 

And the Freedom that will be* 

Then Hail! All Hail! Ye souls victorious, 
Freedom claimed on land and sea, 

Descending from your throng so glorious 
Comes the song of times to be. 

When War will cease and Man be free* 

April, J9J9. 



THE VISION OF THE ARMISTICE— Sonnet U 
THE GREATER SACRIFICE 



War and Peace J9 



THE VISION OF THE ARMISTICE 

My country is the Wotldt 

My countrymen are all Mankind* 

— GARRISON. 

Inscription on his statue. 

In monumental htonzc all eloquent 
He wafts^ with patience infinite and strong, 
Until the world of bells breaks into song 
Of Peace and prophecy of that event 
For which he lived and dicdf in God content. 
And now his very statue midst the throng, 
Harmonious like Memnon's at the dawn, 
Inspiring speaks of mankind^s long ascent, 
Reminding all that dire things pass away; 
While through our tribulations from of old 
There gleams the mighty vision of today. 
Which dying eyes, beneath the Star of Gold 
On Flanders' fields, beheld in glad array — 
That Commonwealth of Nations he foretold. 

Sonnet II, 
July, J920, 



20 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE GREATER SACRIHCE 

I sing of war scarred souls 
Who wore the Star of Blue 

"With sacrifice untold* 
Death's alchemy ne'er turned 
Their Service Star of Blue, 

To Victor's Star of Gold* 

And yet how glorious 
Within their darkened sky, 

A Heavenly Star shines forth, 
Whenever wounded souls 
The broken ends of life 

Unite for greater worth* 
* * ♦ * 

O Stars of Blue, Ye fought for us, 
O Stars of Gold, Ye died for us, 
O Stars of Greater Sacrifice, 
Ye lead us up to Calvary* 

December, J92J. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
Sonnet V 



War and Peace 23 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
The Voice of the People 

Upheaved in solitude from common soil, 

He rises through the rub of life, rough hewn, 

The PeopIe^s Sinai* And with God in tune 

He steadfast §fuides them, through war^s urge and toil, 

To greater Freedom* On lifers peak, death*s coil 

Twines round his mighty heart, alas too soon 

In our poor fcen, as humbly at his tomb 

We tread unshod and feel how death can foiL 

The mausoleums and the monuments 

Are so much dust within the tomb of time. 

But he lives on in that immortal shrine. 

The People's heart* And when great discontents. 

And evils born of war, mislead the land. 

He speaks and guides us, voicing God's command. 

Sonnet V. 
August, J920, 



SELF DETERMINATION 



The cure for Freedom's ills 
Is Freedom still. 



— A thought of H. H. 



SLAVERY 
LITHUANIA 



Self Determination 29 



SLAVERY 

If he b«t thinks, — 
No man or race 
Is half so poor 
As he needs m«st be, 

To be a slave* 

May, J922* 



30 Poems of the Aftermath 



LITHUANIA 

Hailt all hail to thee, O Lithuania ! 
Risen from your bondage, standing free; 
Now to its the Nordic homeland 

Speaks again with mighty tongue, 
That around her woodland altars 

Freedom's song we learned and sung* 

Years have passed in many thousands, 
Feathers fallen from the wings of Time, 
Strewn along historic highways. 

Since with banners streaming, swords on high, 
Freedom o*er them led us Westward 

To the land for which we die* 

There we sacrificed on Freedom's altar 
All we lived and died for on the way. 
Burning all in flaming ardor. 

Till around the mighty pyre. 
Struggling rose our great republic. 

Freedom's answer to our song of fire* 

Now the altar song of Arya, 
Of the love of greater Freedom, 
Breathes within our Magna Charta, 

And it ringeth o'er us on the battle van: 
Die for Freedom, 'tis the Deathless Triumph, 

For it linketh God and man* 

Far across the mighty waters 

Rings our battlecry to thee. 
Die for Freedom, Lithuania, 

Only that will keep you free. 

June, J920* 



THE EPITAPH 

THE SHAMROCK 

IN BUFF AND BLUE 

THE TRIUMPH 

ENGLAND 



Self Determination 33 



THE EPITAPH 
A Thermopylae of Freedom 

Freedom^s tocsin^ with its stirring calls^ 
Still vibrates on the morning: air; 

And Tara^s harp through spirit halls, 
Now throbs again in accent rare* 

With moment tense of prayerful pause, 
Hibernians children, as of yore, 

Again in Freedom^s holy cause 
Appear on battle fronts once more* 

Far off in memory's distant reach 

A form heroic ever stands, 
Whose enrapt face and spirit speech 

Proclaim again his last commands* 

The vision shines in glory dear. 

And listening souls are sorely smitten 

With the message, ringing clear. 
Now let my epitaph be written* 

Oh Irishmen, be led by wisdom. 

Nor with aught but justice ere conform; 
It's your Thermopylae of Freedom, 

And Emmet's spirit rides upon the storm* 

And with Columbia as your guide. 
In fearless, loving veneration 

On his tomb ye shall inscribe, 
Ireland's free and takes her stand 
A Commonwealth and Nation* 



34 Poems of the Aftermath 



So shall his epitaph be written 
And his spirit sink to rest^ 

« * « « « 

Then will the Harp^ in grand acclaim, 
Triumphant sound, on that great day, 

The ancient war cry of your name: 
'^Fag an Bealac! Clear the way!'' 

April, J9J9. 



Self Determination 35 



THE SHAMROCK 

A Song of Freedom 

Oh^ it's long: the world has waited 
Bttt the time has come full round, 

And the Shamrock still is growing 
On Hibernians ancient ground* 

And from Tara's harp long silent 
Comes a mighty sounding throb. 

As the blood poured forth for Freedom 
Calls to us from Erin's sod* 

Coming down through all the ages 
Deathless Triumph ever thrilled, 

Erin's sons who died for Freedom, 
Lofty souls with vows fulfilled* 

But this mighty love of Freedom 

Must by Freemen of today. 
Be handed on a torch that burning 

Lights the Triumph on the way* 

Still in Freedom worth the having 
Progress stopped oft leaps ahead. 

Like the Phoenix from its ashes. 
Rising glorious from the dead* 

Now that moment flames in beauty 
Freedom from the pyre light calls. 
Sons of Erin, Sons of Erin, 

Freemen stand or ye are thralls* 

And the Shamrock, Erin's emblem. 
Twines its roots round Irish hearts. 
Where it grows and sings forever 

Ireland free or life departs* 

June, J9J9. 



36 Poems of the Aftermath 



IN BUFF AND BLUE 

A Song from the Revolution 

In the days of the Revolution 
You were a Tory, tried and true, 

While I was one of the men proscribed 
Who wore the buff and blue* 

We thought it out and fought it out, 
But still for King were you; 

While I still followed Washington, 
And wore the buff and blue* 

You went back to die in England, 
Still a Tory, true and tried; 

But I gave all in Freedom^s cause, 
And so have never died* 

And Erin now, in Freedom^s cause, 
Your England questions once again; 

And we say now, as we said then. 
Stand fast for Freedom, Irishmen* 

Now the old song^s ringing true — 
We thought it out and fought it out, 

But still for King are you; 
While we still follow Washington, 

And wear the buff and blue* 

May, t920» 



Self Determination 37 



THE TRIUMPH 

So his epitaph is written 
And his spirit sinks to rest. 

Now Hibernians golden Harp chords 

Vibrate in their glad acclaim, 
Music out of tribulation, 

Godward rising winged with flame, 
As the Irish peopIe^s hand, 

On the stone of Emmet's tomb, 
Carves in Self Determination, 
Ireland's free and takes her stand 
A Commonwealth and Nation* 

June, J922. 



38 Poems of the Aftermath 



ENGLAND 

Ri§fht to do, come weal ot woe, 
England's courage once again. 
Stands the acid test of time, 
As She in Self Determination 
Lets the Irish people go* 

July, J922, 



PORTRAITS 



THE NAME 
THE HERITAGE 



Portraits 43 



THE NAME 

A faded card whose roses red^ 

All dim with age, two verses frame, 

That quaintly rest the one above, 
The other 'neath, a woman's name^ 

The name in old familiar script 
Shines forth a golden chain to me, 

Entwined within the verse refrain 
She loved, ^^Sweet memories of thee*** 

Beneath the rainbow of my tears 
The roses bloom and scent the air. 

And far off now her lullaby 

I hear, surpassing sweet and fair* 

Ah, how the primal love-call's thrill 
Triumphant surges o*er all other. 

Rising from your very dust, 
My Mother, oh, my Mother! 

December, J9J9. 



44 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE HERITAGE 

In memory*s land of boyhood years 

A lofty form I still behold, 
"Whose manly sway and simple faith 

Still cast the spell they did of old* 

The mists of time hangf o'er the land 
In trailing clouds arottnd his form, 

Until his smile like sunshine comes 
When lo, in that fair land 'tis morn. 

The vision clears and now I see 
A lofty form enshrined in death, 

And on his face in shining calm 
The glow of some immortal breath. 

The watchers sleep within the gloom, 
Where fearless, led by love forlorn, 

A little lad beside the corse 

Holds watch alone until the morn. 

And there «pon the shining way 

Which hedged about the sire and son. 
The heritage was handed down: 



Ah me, my Father's faith indeed. 
Which I can only try to reach; 

But still across the gulf of time 
He leads me on with spirit speech* 

April, J920, 



A PHYSIQAN— SONNET IV 
THE fflGHLAND NURSE 



Portraits 47 



A PHYSiaAN 

The moment^s work well done self-crowns the Mount 

Of years, raised bit by bit with deadening toil, 

Upon whose Peak, arisen from the soil, 

She views and measures justly things that count* 

From work of years comes knowledge paramount, 

Whose light dispels the wearying turmoil 

Round the sick, beats out the subtle recoil 

Of disease, and for hope finds some new fount* 

O, beautiful her friendly spirit gleams, 

A fair oasis on the sands of time. 

And wisdom from its fount of reason streams. 

Where souls, distracted by mirages, find 

In joyous drafts, long visioned in their dreams, 

An unexpected balm for hurts of mind* 

Sonnet FV. 
August, 1920. 



48 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE HIGHLAND NURSE 

Just as the scent of the heather 

Means Scotland forever 

To you, My Dearie, 
So the fragrance of your life endeavor 

Means a joy forever 

To us, My Dearie, 

Oh, the hills are hard to climb 
And keep the step in mind 

Forever, Lassie; 
But there^s a wreath for endless service borne 
Unconquered lifts your head above the storm 

For evermore. My Lassie, 

High road or low, 'tis mostly bitter sweet; 
And for all the trials met, sair I grete 

For ye. My Dearie, 
Still the fragrance of your life endeavor 

Sweetens ours forever 

And forever. Dearie, 

May, J9J9. 



A CLERGYMAN 
THE SOaOLOGIST 



Portraits 5j 



A CLERGYMAN 

He passed along my road in life, 
A kindly, §:raciotJs presence, 
Moving* as the Master moved 
Along the old Judean roads 
And on the Sea of Galilee* 
Through the mantle of his clay 
His soul shone forth to all, 
A sacred fire in lamp of alabaster* 
So I saw him, met him on the Way, 
And evermore I follow after* 

December, J9J9, 



52 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE SOaOLOGIST 

Datk-haifed daughter of Minerva^ 

Ever seeking: after truth, 
She layeth all upon the altar, 

Mind and body, strengfth and youth; 
And from the ashes of her life endeavor 

Nobler concepts of humanity and man 

Shall, Phoenix-like, arise forever* 
♦ « ♦ • • 

Hark! from out the flaming; pyre 
Resounds the music grand 
Of timers immortal choir* 

August, J9J9. 



THE BIOLOGIST 
A VIKING 



Portraits 55 



THE BIOLOGIST 

On timers horizon looms a fabled Peak^ 

Where brave Prometheus, tho«§fh in chains and torn, 

Defied the gfods and scorned their Vulture's beak* 

And there, an uplift in the mind of man 

Found voice, through living crucifixion born* 

From circling torment roused to dreadful ire, 
The Vulture strikes, the Titan's heart to gnaw; 
But still unquenched flames some Indwelling Fire, 
To stir his soul's defiance of the gods. 
And his allegiance unto Truth through Law* 

His voice still speaks inspiring unto him 

Who tends an Altar where Truth's fire doth spread; 

And there, before her awful Cherubim, 

Forever seeks the mystery of life to glean 

From all of life itself and from the dead* 

To Truth a servant he has ever been 

And loves her, though his soul is seared and scarred 

By fiery lances from her Cherubim; 

For wounds of Truth a healing wisdom have. 

Which gives a greater strength to all that's marred* 

His Peak of work is golden with the dawn. 
Which great Prometheus ever prophesied; 
When Zeus and all decadent gods forlorn 
Would timely vanish from the ken of man. 
And the God of Truth alone be deified* 

March. J920* 



56 Poems of the Afteirmath 



A VIKING 

Amundsen 

In my memory I behold him, 
And I hear the words he said. 

While Antarctic lights a-shining 
Make a halo round his head* 

Then the tide of time rolls backward. 

And in vision clear to me 
Gleams a fjord in land Norwegian, 

Where he first put out to sea* 

From that fjord, so runs the saga. 
Vikings sailed o'er trackless seas. 

Other lands to find and conquer. 
Warriors only death could ease* 

Then the tide of time sweeps forward, 
And I see the gleaming sail 

Of a Viking rushing Southward, 
Where 'tis death to win or fail* 

In the dread Antarctic Circle, 
Still the Viking makes his way; 

Till the ice-cap wall confronts him, 
And the Norseman is at bay* 



Portraits 57 



A VIKING 

Overhead the sea-birds screaming^ 
Sound a dirge upon the air^ 

Chanting that all men before him 
Failed or died in their despair* 

Undismayed and ever Southward, 
O'er the ice-cap to his goal. 

On, the sledded Viking rushes. 
Till at last he makes the Pole* 

Just ahead of Death's grim shadow. 
Homing swift the Viking Hies 

To the Norseland, Skoal forever! 
And a name that never dies. 

February, J 920. 



SONNET— FELIX ARVERS— J833 
IN FEUDAL TIMES 



Portraits 6i 



SONNET OF FELIX ARVERS— ^833 

From the French 
The form and rhyme as in the original 

My sotti its secret has, my life its mystery — 
A love eternal in a moment springfs aglow, 
Whose hopeless pain I bear forever silently, 
For she, who lit the torch of love, will never know* 

Alas! that near her unperceived, I gladly go 
Beside her always, yet alone eternally* 
And this through life I must endure, though willingly, 
Not daring love to ask, for none she deigns to show* 

For she, though God has made her lovely and tender, 
Goes her way nor heeds or hears, nor will remember 
This murmur of a love, her very steps command* 

And piously faithful in austere life's duty, 

She will say to these lines, all filled with her beauty, 

^^Who can this woman he}** and never understand* 

March, J92J, 



62 Poems of the Aftermath 



IN FEUDAL TIMES 

Stifs the dust 

Of a Knight of Old, 

To blossom fare 

In a Christmas Missive 

To his Lady Fair, 



Merie Cristmast Lefdye dete — 

Loral wrethen evere f ayre. 
All in lyf to me is vayn 
Saf the Dragouns by me slayn, 

Whan your glofe my helm yt bare. 

Stede and sadel^ glofe on helme, 

Visere down with sweord and spere, 
Dragouns flee whan I be nere, 

And Love is Quene on alle the realme* 



Then the letters, dim with age, 
Glow and gild the dusty page, 
And the Knight of Feudal times 
Speaks, as ring the Christmas chimes, — 

So the Love, that thoht of yow hath wonne 
I senden to myn Lefdye dere. 
For Cristmas and all aefter yeere. 

Christmas, J 92 J. 



k 



ROBERT BURNS 

GEORGE THE GOOD 

THE LEADER OF THE LOST BATTALION 



Portraits 65 



ROBERT BURNS 

THE STATUE IN THE FENS 



Hare and Mouse and Floweret braw. 
Mutely singings blithesome a,\ 
Halleluiah! Halleluiah! 
Bobbie Burns no far awa^ 



He stands where o'er the banks and braes, 
Along a bonie winding: stream, 

He looks afar, wi' staff an' dog, 
And O, sae braw an' human a'. 

That there I gladly sit me doon 
And ken that he's no far awa'» 

Ah, darlin' Shepherd o' our hearts, 
Nae mair ye'II gic us o' yottr sang, 

Nae mair ye'II ever need to gie — 
For ye sae aft wi' loe in tune, 

Hae struck the chords o' smiles an' tears. 
There's naething mair e'en frae abune* 

And now you're bonie mang my tears. 
While aft ye fill me fu' o' joy; 

But maist I loe a Man's a Man, 
And feel a' life should sacred be; 

Frae a' o' which an' Auld Lang Syne, 
I ken ye werena born to dee* 

October, I92L 



66 Poems of the Aftermath 



GEORGE THE GOOD 

Search far and wide 

Through Royal England^s kingly line, 

To find that Alfred, called the great. 

And George of our day, called the good, 

Kings both, by God's grace, for the people are, 

And so will ere abide, 

July, J922. 



Portraits 67 



THE LEADER OF THE LOST BATTALION 

Alas that his great heart, victorious on the battle fields, 
O^erwhelired by sorrow, to the aftermath of war now 

yields 
And sinks, beneath a load too great, in his untimely 

grave. 
While the Ocean mournful chants the requiem of the 

brave* 
It was but yesterday, when proudly o'er the Nation's 

face 
A grim smile fleeting passed, and in his glory shone 

the Race* 
Ah, Whittlesey, we^II ne'er forget the glorious Argonne, 
Where you and all your Lost Battalion ever carry on. 
And answer like the noble Spartans to the Persian's 

call. 
Go to Hell with those who sent you, here we stand or 

here we fall* 
O, leader of the Lost Battalion wheresoe'er ye be. 
When Freedom's trumpet calls to you, entombed within 

the Sea, 
You'll roll the Ocean flood-gates back and rising lead 

us on. 
As you did within the forest of the dread Argonne* 

September, J 922* 



MEDITATIONS 



THE PILGRIM 

AND 

THE HEAVENWARD WAY 



Meditations 73 



THE PILGRIM 

To the Pilgfim on the Way, 
It seems as clear as day — 
The tide doth rise, or it doth fall, 

To its — in us, 

As we — in God^ 

The shadows of eternal Truth 
To him are filled with Ii§:ht, 

And so he moves along the Way 
And through the portals of the tomb 

To Endless Day* 

J9J94920. 



74 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE HEAVENWARD WAY 

In the darkness of the primal ages, 

Dim as light foretelling day, 
The Harbinger of spirit life, 
Casts only faint illumed shadow 

Of the coming Heavenward Way* 

On creation^s wings It rises, 
In the urge of law and plan. 

To flame at last a Peak of thought; 

And the Way is heralded 
In the mind of ancient man* 

Fruitage of the dust begotten 

Flames the thought with spirit-light. 
Acclaiming Virtue comes in moments. 
Gleaming through the Veil of Vice 

Inspiring Stars of Evil^s night* 

Through cycles of despairing years. 

The Peak still throws its flaming rays 
Amidst the storming clouds of doubt. 
And dimly now the Way is seen 
In minds of men of those dark days* 

Again the darkening Veil is rent. 

And singing of the dawn to them 
A Star of morning lights the Way, 
And leads the thought to spirit life 
Beneath the Star at Bethlehem* 



Meditations 75 



THE HEAVENWARD WAY 

In the accent of the Life Divine^ 

Fulfilled upon the cross in old Judea, 

Only fleeing shadows trace the Veil; 

And Virtue^s merging moments 
Spirit-winged and flaming clear^ 

Reveal the Heavenward Way 
In life of every sphere* 

* * * « * 

And now the thought, still rising Godward, 

Leads the Pilgrim, day by day, 
Through the Vale of light and shadow 
To the House of many mansions. 
In whose Glory ends the Way* 

J9J9-J922. 



THE BAD ANGEL 

THE GOOD ANGEL 

AND 

THE JUDGMENT 



78 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE BAD ANGEL j 

You speak, •! 

And music fills my longing: heart, 

As the trancing Siren's song with its mad refrain, 

Floating o*er the languorous waters and the rocks of 
death, 

Fills the Sailor's heart with seeds of doom* j 

So with lure of life all self-indulgence, 
You corrupt, and Hope lies slain* 

October, J92I. 



Meditations 79 



THE GOOD ANGEL 

You speak, 

And music stirs my famished heart, 

As the slogan of the Clan upon the hills at dawn, 

Rising" o^er a glow of tartans and the skirl of pipes, 

Stirs hearts of Kin in their beleaguered city* 

So the siege of things corrupt in life. 

You raise, and Hope's reborn* 

October, J92K 



80 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE JUDGMENT 

With those of old the saying ran, 
That in the mind of every man 
Two Angfels strive, to rttle who can* 
And oft an Angel, good and grand, 
Victorious reigns in that fair land; 
While quite too oft, with evil damned. 
An Angel bad doth gain command* 

And battles there are lost and won. 
Till Death he taps his awful Drum, 
With final victor known to none* 
Though Sages old writ far and wide 
About a Court where Gods preside. 
Who will the question there decide, 
When man has crossed the Great Divide* 

But there's a Court which sits for aye, 
To mete out justice, low and high; 
Where the Angels, striving for command. 
Are thoughts and acts both slight and grand. 
Whose roots, entwined in life's great plan. 
Reach up from star-dust unto man* 

And the greatest Sage hath said 
That the dead shall bury their dead. 
And there is no Great Divide* 
Then man will reach the other side. 
Where thoughts and acts forever stand. 
With the writ of judgment in his hand* 

Februaryt J920* 



THE SONG OF HOPE 
THE DARK HOUR 



Meditations 83 



THE SONG OF HOPE 

Remember me, Hope always sings^ 

Or evermore regret — 
And rising from the legion of the damned^ 
Who Hope have lost or thrown away, 
Forever sounds the mad refrain, 

Man never should forget, 
Wrung from their poor distracted souls. 

Remember or regrets 

July, J922, 



84 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE DARK HOUR 

When to the star-dust I return 
To be reanimated once agfain, 
Oh let my ashes fall with joy 
From some beloved gfentle hand: 
And all the benediction which I crave 
Is that I trace amidst the elements, 
In letters fair, he was *^The shadow 
Of a great rock in a weary land^^ 



August, J922, 



THE LARGER HOPE 
IMMORTELLES 



i 



Meditations 67 



THE LARGER HOPE 

We slowly grasp the larger hope 

By Prophet told and Poet sung 

And from Manfcind^s experience wrung — 

That Heaven is not a place in space and time 

But a Condition is, where souls in rhyme 

Communion hold with God and man, 

In every tongue and every clime^ 

The many wrongs, the great despair of right, 

Make Hell a Heaven-obscured condition here^ 

He died upon the cross to crucify that fear; 

Since then, the Way to Heaven is told in all the tongues* 

In sacrificial moments our Communion comes, 

Alas, with eyes that cannot bear the light, 

We yet must crucify our holy ones* 

May, J92J. 



88 Poems of the Aftermath 



IMMORTELLES 

Ah^ not alone on battlefields 

Does Deathless Triumph come to man; 

It §:Ieams wherever life is untoward, 
And self upon a cross is sacrificed 

To lift one soul who 's helpless to reward* 

These sacrificial moments come to all, 
And, garnered in the sheaf of Time, 

Are mighty seeds quite hid in earthy shells; 
Which, falling: blessed in some Elysian field. 

Will blossom Immortelles* 

June, J920. 



i 



MADONNA AND CHILD 



i 



Meditations 9t 



MADONNA AND CHILD 
Fra Filippo Lippi 

Divine content, cherubic charm, 

A halo gleam of spirit-flame; 
The Mother-song's triumphant call — 
I am the Everlasting Gate 

Through which the Lord Christ came. 



June, J920* 



THE ROCK OF FAITH 

AND 

BETHLEHEM 



i 



Meditations 95 



THE ROCK OF FAITH 

Some Undying: Imptilse stirs the clod 

And, emerging from his earthly chrysalis, 

Man slowly rises on the wings of thought 

To find the fount of Truth eterne* 

In wandering flight by instinct oft misled, 

Hope thrilling calls from out the realm of laws 

Arise! Arise! and seek creation^s cause* 

With sweep of mighty wing in that great realm, 

He mounts to gain upon its awful heights. 

Or sinks to find within its depths profound. 

Some inkling of the Truth, perchance new-born. 

Or catch some glimmer of eternal dawn* 

At last Hope^s call from spire of highest peak, 

Resounding in the deep of greatest depth. 

Is lost within the Voice of all creation. 

Ever chanting midst the changing spheres, 

Unto man one harmony of law appears* 

The song of elements in threads ethereal. 

That all-sufficient in the loom of time. 

Combine to weave man's shroud of clod 

And form the mantle of the living God* 

He who stirs the clod to life and thought. 

And is, as far as man hath understood. 

The Only one Undying Impulse, 
Ever making for creation's good* 

September, J92J* 



96 Poems of the Aftetmath 



BETHLEHEM 

He rests so shining calm 
Within the man§:eft 
Where the shadow makes a Cross, 
While the Starry Choir 
To shepherds sing, 
*Teace on earth, 
Good will to men*^ 

Christmas, J92J. 



I 



NATURE 



CROW POINT 

AND 

THE GOLDEN ARGOSY— SONNET III 



Nature tOi 



CROW POINT 

On the htim of Hmgham's lovely harbor, 
Where the shores are wooded hills of gfreen. 

There's a quid nook just off the sea, 
With a garden old, all blossom starred, 

Where the evergreens keep watch for me« 

And the year is at the Springtime there. 
And the birds are calling. May is here. 

While the great sea-tide at flood serene. 
Has its moments now when it rests within 

The enchanted shores of living green* 

Where the shore's overspread, 'neath a mirrored sky, 
By a tide illumed with tints of blue. 

Oh 'tis lovely there, when across its sheen 
Two enchanting boats pass wing and wing. 

With their sailors spell-bound by the scene* 

Now the balmy zephyrs waft them on. 
And their sails in endless silver layers. 

Are the gleams within the tide of blue. 
Where the shadow-lances, cast by masts, 

In their linear beauty pierce them through* 



J02 Poems of the Aftermath 



CROW POINT 

When aslant they sail the distant flood 
With their sails aflashing o^er the tide, 

Oh it^s then that a tree-top minaret, 
To a haunting melody is swayed, 

When the bluebird calls, O it^s Springtime yet* 



Broken is the spell, its bonds we sever. 
When aglowing in the dusky West, 

Evening's candle, clear and bright as ever, 
Lights the parting Day to rest* 

Homing birds set all the air a-quiver. 

And the fire-flies flash their unseen flight. 

While the fading shore and twilight glimmer 
Merge in darkness, and 'tis Night. 

May, \9\% 



Nature J 03 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY 

In the mind's unfathomed deep, still the voice 
Of Hope is heard, echoing evermore 
In song: divine, from Fancy's harbor shore; 

Inspiring: thought, which makes the heart rejoice. 

That in Life's grinding round, so brief in joys. 
So oft despairing, with of faith no store. 
Angelic moments come, to tide us o'er 

The Evil shoal which hinders or destroys* 

On Life's Sea in stormy-hours, near and far 

Their watch cries out, their bells all golden chime. 

To board their Argosy and o'er the bar. 
Triumphant on the conquering tide of time. 

We'll pass the harbor floodgate's awful Star, 
And make with joy the Port we sail to find* 

Sonnet IIL 
July, 1920. 



THE BORDERLAJNTD 
THE WINDING STREAM 



Nature t07 



THE BORDERLAND 

Bttt look, the gffass all gflimmering gfteen 
In mingling beattty now is seen; 

Where Winter, loth to go. 
Has spread beneath the budding trees 

His carpet thin of melting snow^ 

April, J920. 



JOS Poems of the Aftermath 



THE WINDING STREAM 

Oft when Fm enslaved by toil and ma% 
And rise to freedom in the realm of mind, 
Oh sweet, the memory of a winding: stream 
Flows gently through that dear enchanted land, 
In all the beauty of a trancing dream^ 

Night passes and the dawn-light, russet gold. 
Falls softly o^er the Fens, while in the East, 
The waning lamp of morn goes out unseen. 
And yonder in the meadows green and fair, 
A streak of fluid silver, flows the stream* 

A twisting silvern thread of joy it winds. 
All margined now by flowering meadow-land. 
And now, by grassy banks where trees abound. 
Whose thirsty roots return the patient stream 
A grateful shade, the blessing from the ground* 

All glorious within its infinite calm. 
The stream reveals the open gates of morn. 
Where now, the rising orb of life and day 
In splendor comes, to Nature^s chant of joy. 
All mirrored in the bending silver way* 

Nearby, above the tree-tops^ leafy screen. 
Fair shrines of art and learning gem the sky. 
While yonder, where the silvery waters gleam. 
They're caught within reflection's magic spell. 
And bound in all their beauty 'neath the stream* 



Nature J09 



THE WINDING STREAM 

The noontime slowly flies on leaden wingfs, 
And now the lengthening shadows softly creep^ 
Poor m«te recorders of the flight of time, 
To drown alas, where trancing sedges call, 
Green sirens masking oVr the water line* 

Time hastens and above the dark green hills, 
The gathered banners of departing day 
Flame out afar in colors all untold, 
And in their wizardry, the silvern thread 
Becomes a ribbon now of cloth of gold* 

Refreshing airs of evening's advent tell. 
As in the dusky glory of the West 
Diana's slender bow of gold hangs bright, 
While Night, all fragrant in her sable veil. 
Enfolds the meadows and the stream from sight* 
* * * « « 

All is dark, save where the city lights 

Begem the sable veil of night* 
And musing now the thought unbidden comes. 
That here within the city's dusty heart. 

This winding stream of beauty flows. 
And gives as contribution unto life. 

Quite all it has and all it knows* 

April, J920* 



BEAUTY— SONNET I 
THE TRYST 



Nature U3 



BEAUTY 

A sea ethereal, divinely blue, 
Whose clouds in silken masses, snowy white, 
Are Blessed Isles : they glow with trancing light 
From Dianas orb, as she soars stately through 
The sapphire sea, their harbor shores to view* 
Where now, by star-strewn coasts enticing bright, 
She sinks, eclipsed by Isles in pure delight, 
To rise and glorify the heavens anew* 
Above, overhang the moon-lit Sea and Isles, 
Below, where evergreens all silvered tower, 
A primrose white and fair, the soul beguiles 
As distant bells intone the golden hour; 
Recalling moments on lifers weary miles. 
When Beauty seems of God, the very flower* 

Sonnet L 

July, 1920. 

Moonlight at Crow Point* 



ti4 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE TRYST 

He whistles softly 

In despair^ 
A call from Love's own tune, 

While loitering there 

So ill at ease; 
When Heaven opes 

And there she comes 
As lovely as the new-moon 

Seen through trees* 

September, J92J. 



THE FIR TREE AND THE PALM 



Nature tt7 



THE FIR TREE AND THE PALM 

HEINE 
From the German 

A Fif tree stands in the Northernland 

Alone on a barren height* 
And the icy snows spread oVr his sleep 

A clinging: fleece of white* 

Forever he dreams of a lonely Palm 

That far in the Morningland, 
On the scorching rocks of the desert marge, 

In silent grief doth stand* 

January, J92L 



nS Poems of the Aftermath 



THE nR TREE AND THE PALM 

A SONG 
After Heine 

In the Northland stands a Fir tree^ 

Lonely on a barren height* 
O^er his sleep the icy snow-storms 

Fling* a fleecy robe of white* 

In his dream-life stands a Palm tree 

That afar in Morningland, 
Lonely mourns ttpon the margin 

Of the desert's burning sand* 

Janttary, J 92 J. 



THE RUNE 
A TOUCH OF NATURE 



Nature J2J 



THE RUNE 

In linear beattty 'gainst the Autumn sky 

The wind-swept trees, along the landward crest, 

Overlook an ancient farmhold grimly set 

Where rock-ribbed shore throws back the angry sea* 

Weirdly they moan above their dear dead leaves 
Whose scurrying heaps, wind winnowed oVr the soil, 
Decay at last above the garden plots 
That flowers may come to gladden hearts in Spring* 

And so through Life this Rune doth run. 
Decay goes on from sun to sun. 
While through the seasons* calm and storm 
Death's blanket warms the newly born* 

January, J92J, 



J22 Poems of the Aftermath 



A TOUCH OF NATURE 

A bitte-gfowned elf is little Phyllis 

As on tiny twinkling: feet 
Up the bank she scampers to me^ 
Reaching arms my knees to greet, 
Escaping there, pursuing playmates, 
With her little heart a-brimming 

Full of recognition sweets 

Then companionship in full unites me 

With a tree in memory blent, 
Where, a-glimmering down the gray, 
A bluebird ^scapes the hawk*s intent, 
A-nestling down among the branches. 
With its little heart a-beating 
In the rhythm of content* 

May, J92J. 



THE SUN WORSHIPPERS 

SUNSET 



Natttfe J25 



THE SUN WORSHIPPERS 

A woodland temple open to the East, 
And gathered there the Priesthood of a princely race, 

Who, in the h«sh of darkest night, 
Wait to see the living God, face to face^ 

* « « « « 

The darkness lifts and gentle Dawn, 
The Vestal Virgin of approaching Day, 
Comes blushing o'er the hills and sea* 
And now within the eastern Heaven, 
Behold, the golden lamp of Morn 
Becomes a far-off pallid flame. 
To dwindle and go out unseen 
When, from his glorious abyss. 
The living Lord of life and day. 
In robes of purple gold, comes forth. 
And all the host bend the knee* 

* « * * ♦ 

The temple and the priests long since are dust — 
While knowledge, greater far than priests ere knew. 
Lights up the long ascent till on the heights, 
Man seemingly has gained a nobler view* 
But dawn-light still foretells the coming day 
And sun-rise makes a Heaven of land and sea. 
While man, in their infinity sees God, 
And like the priests of old, bends the knee* 

September, J92J, 



J 26 Poems of the Aftermath 



SUNSET 

The sunset light-waves, 

Breaking purple-gold, 
Are but the light-waves of the dawn, 

Other eyes behold, 
Further round this earthen sphere^ 
And on the circling rims 

Of these great earthen planes, 
Whose glad affinity 

This flattened sphere maintains, 
We conscious live and know them all 

As time-space shores, now dark, now bright. 
Within the universe^s greater planes; 

Whereon the ceaseless waves of light 
And sea ethereal, forever break 
In all the gamut of the elemental force* 



And the emanating glory crowning all, 
Rises from the burning core of thought. 
Revealing this unto the mind of man. 
To lead him through infinity to God* 



June, J922. 



FORSYTHIA 
THE YELLOW PRIMROSE 



Natare J29 



FORSYTHIA 

I crossed the bridge to where forsaken 
Stretched the Meadow somber, drear; 
CI«mps of bushes far and near. 

Seem withered sticks by death overtaken* 

Winter now in flight reluctant 
Flings, as legacy of spite, 
A fleecy veil of melting white, 

To chill the joy of Spring exultant* 

But the night brings gentle showers 
Till the dawn, all warm desire. 
Floods the field with golden fire, 

Gliding distant spires and towers* 

And the bushes now are burning 
As upon the sacred Mount, 
While from showers as their fount, 

Withered sticks are blossoms turning* 
* * * * * 

So in times all dark with fears. 

What is beautiful in life. 

Oft springs up through dreary strife. 
To blossom when bedewed by tears* 

October, 192U 



J 30 Poems of the Aftermath 



THE YELLOW PRIMROSE 

A primrose by a river^s brim 
A yellow primrose was to him, 
And it was nothing more. 

Wordsworth. 

But the floweret by the shore^ 
Smiles and gently tells of him, 
That in his darkness there's a glim 

Where the rose is something more* 

Oh the earth was lonely there, 
Stupid, dark and so forlorn. 
That gave me birth on one glad morn. 

To grow in all my beauty rare* 

Yet was I in earth wind sown. 

And in the seed from which I sprung, 
Was all my beauty there unsung. 

Entombed within the clod unknown* 

And perchance will come a day, 
O Poet of the rose and river's brim. 
When even from his tomb so dim. 

Will the stone be rolled away* 

January, 1922, 



THE SONG OF THE HOMING FISHERMEN 
COMPANIONSHIP 



Nature J33 



THE SONG OF THE HOMING FISHERMEN 

In the glorious \stgc of sunrise skies, 

Oft I sense a touch of desolation* 

But beneath a kindred sky, once I heard 

The rollicking songf of homing fishermen 

Give the needed note to the music of creation* 

Oh life is great and troubles o'er, 

When homeward bound we reach the shore, 

With our haul of fish 

From the brine — O, ho. 

The brine — O, the brine — O* 
We^I fill the dish of wife and kids 
And sell the rest to shift our quids. 

And salt in the bank 

All the rhino— O, 

The rhino, the rhino* 
Heave her to, my hearties, O, 
She's taut above and dry below. 

In the rising sun 

The port's aglow. 
And wives and kiddies waving run. 
To welcome us to Kingdom Come* 

And the winds may blow, 

My hearties, O, 
We're home at last, Yoho, Yoho* 
***** 

You smile at the fishermen's homing song. 
But the beauties of Nature all massed in one. 
Lack all, till man doth come* 

September, J 92 J* 



J 34 Poems of the Aftermath 



COMPANIONSHIP 

My Grandmother said. 

Dear old Lady, she^s long since dead, 
** That shooting stars are chariots of iiie 
Bearing souls on their way to Heaven ; ^ 

And I believe what she said. 



In the evening's golden silence 

All enrapt I standi 
While through a sacred grove of evergreens^ 

Emblazoning the tawny sapphire of the sky> 
Diana's slender bow of gold passing, gleams 

As murmurings from the Morning-land 
Whisper glad tidings and we meet again. 

Old in years are we and the Dark-hour 
Casts its lengthening shadow o'er our brows; 

But still the golden moments come 
When the years fall off, the flesh sublimes 

And all I seem to feel or know, 
Is that we are two souls coursing Heavenward, 

Borne on twin shooting stars 
Adown the lanes of Morning-land 

To our beloved Nirvana, 

September, J 922, 



GRIP AND GOBLIN 



i 



Nature 137 



GRIP AND GOBLIN 

Awaking* once within my chamber dim^ 
As the shadows lifting let the light creep in, 
At the witching hour 'twixt night and morn, 

I beheld a Goblin black; 

But *twas only my pet cat 

Perched intent and Oh, so still, 

Looking from his well-Ioved level 

Of the casement window silL 
At the tracery of trees and rocks. 
That 'gainst the sky overlooks a loved lagoon, 

Goblin ga^ed with that intentness, 

Which is far-off kin to thought* 

A well-known call and round he turned. 

And down he condescending came, 

A very knowing sable cat 

With joyful eyes of topaz-flame* 
In soft and purring speech, ^^Good morn,*' he said. 
And then, *^Why linger ye so long in bed ?'' 
While I, replying, stroked his arching back, 
Till tantalizing down the stairs he fled* 

But 'neath the home-light's evening glow. 

When we have gathered round the table, 

Then in all that's going on. 

Be sure my little friend in sable. 

Takes a hand and fills a gap 

The which, none else is ever able* 



J 38 Poems of the Aftermath 



GRIP AND GOBLIN 

Oft when doing stttnts that I have tattght him, 
Comes a trick of turn and glance of eye, 
Which wipe away the years, long since gone by, 
And quite distinct and Oh, how clear. 
Through the sheen of memory^s tears. 
Again I see, again I hear 
My silver-white bull terrier. 
Who's dead and gone these many years* 
Grip by name he was and nature too. 
Ah ! 'tis dogs like him I wish you knew. 
And though a mighty battler for his right. 
No heart was ever fonder or more true* 
And so to children one and all. 
He was ever guide and friend, 
A very dove for gentleness 
And like a lion to defend* 
Ah I how his memory warms the heart. 
And how the life stream swifter flows. 
Whene'er his loving, roguish face. 
From out the past, so friendly glows* 
And oftentimes, it seems quite clear. 
He looks not from the days gone by. 
But somewhere, on ahead of me. 
Looks back and waits so patiently* 



I 



Nature J 39 



GRIP AND GOBLIN 

Goblin stjrely taught me more than little, 
And from Grip indeed, much knowledge spread 
Bttt Goblin dear was only my pet cat, 
While Grip whose faults were slight, or none at 

And who gave his love forever. 

Was only my old loving friend. 

My silver-white bull terrier^ 
Now in time, and on old Charon^s boat, 
I, like all, must cross the river Styx; 

And if, upon the further bank, 
I hear a gladsome bark. 

While, forward of the pushing prow, 
I hear a faint meow. 

And catch a gleam of silver-white 
Near lights of topaz-flame, 

FII surely know we're homeward bound. 

And oVr the whelming flood so vast. 

We'll make the Home Port safe at last^ 

July, J9J9. 



BERMUDA 

AND 

THE FLEECE OF GOLD— SONNET VI 



Nature H3 



BERMUDA 

Canto I 

Oh, trancing: isles of old Bermudat 
Gardens, time has salvaged from the sea^ 
When Memory^s magic-lamp is lighted, 
All your loveliness comes back to tnc* 

Dear Fairyland of Shakespeare^s fancy, 
Tempest, sea and yellow sands. 
With caves mysterious, sea-life wondrous, 
Visioned when the Lamp commands* 

The Lamp is lit. 
The moment's here. 
And in the light 
The Isles appear* 

Thy turquoise seas again we're sailing. 

Argonauts with Pilot bold. 
Who casts a spell that quite enthralls us 

As he spins his yarns of gold, 
A-weaving legend, song and story 

Of the days long since gone by. 
When bays were haunts of grim marauders 

And adventure's tide ran high* 
We sail through sounds for shores enticing 

Till we reach a bridge of old. 
Whereat our Pilot on his conch-shell 

Blows like Triton and behold. 
The drawbridge trembling lifteth o'er us 

And we ga^e on hillsides green. 
Where coral houses, island carvings. 

In the distance temples seem* 



J 44 Poems of the Aftermath 



BERMUDA 

Canto I 

Far off a hedge of oleander 

Crests a gentle curve of hills. 
Whose air-borne fragrance v/afted to us 

All our senses subtly thrills* 
The Fleece of Gold we longing seek for 

Pirates hid, the old tales say, 
And sailing back in flaming ardor 

Haunts we reach on Riddle's Bay* 

All there is quiet now, 
And Pirates grim 
Long since are mold. 
Whence Beauty springs 
In earthly charm 
Of lilies* white and gold. 
While through the trees 
A bluebird wings* 

In silence now the balmy zephyrs 

Waft us to a neighboring shore. 
Where ancient Spithead, trancing tavern. 

Casts its spell and opes its door* 
Our Host, an exile from Kentucky, 

Lonely for the folks at home. 
Delighted leads us o'er the tavern 

From foundation to the dome* ( 

In one quaint room a rare piano. 

Relic of the bygone years. 
Whose music with our songs of Dixie 

Touched the chords of smiles and tears* 



Nattfte J 45 



BERMUDA 

Canto I 

Then straight a feast is spread before us, 

Noble crayfish, viands rare, 
And days of glory now returning 

Make old Spithead very fair* 
At last our boat with lifted pinions 

Bears us from that tavern old, 
The while all sing. Farewell Forever, 

Feeling friendship outweighs gold* 
We cross a turquoise sea resplendent 

With its waves all flecked with green. 
To where a port in Fairyland 

Is home and Paradise, I ween* 
And there we rest till day is dawning. 

Then beneath the crystal brine 
We plunge to reappear all famished. 

Break our fast, and then recline 
Until our Pilot makes the harbor. 

Moors his boat and blows his shelL 
We greet him with our salutation 

And his cry is, **AII is welL^ 
We dauntless make oVr sea crests foaming 

Ports recalling Saints of old, — 
Saint George, Saint David, blessed islands, 

Where might be the Fleece of Gold* 
Saint George^s gardens quaint and lovely 

And the ancient Inn that's there. 
Where Falstaff and Prince Hal might tarry. 

Drinking sack with wit to spare* 
You shake your head, but still this tavern 

Seems like those that Shakespeare knew* 
Remembered well is David's island. 

Where the coral was on view, — 



J 46 Poems of the Aftermath 



BERMUDA 

Canto I 

The larger masses, quoth the vendor, 

Male, and like the brain of man ; 
The small are female, brain of woman. 

Then he smiles — like Caliban^ 
The lofty cliffs of outer islands 

Beckon to us o*er and o*er. 
But time for us is ever wingingf 

And of them we see no more* 
As home to Fairyland we*re sailing 

O'er a glassy sea we drift. 
And, gating in its crystal mirror. 

Watch the sea-life change and shift, 
"When coursing from this ocean garden 

On our way to Fairyland, 
Just off our bow a sea-craft passes, 

Headed for a northern land. 
Right then our Pilot from a locker 

Takes a tiny Union Jack, 
And we stand up as he salutes her 

While her crew all cheer us back, 
A moment then all rich with silence 

And our Pilot quiet speaks, 
^^We have deep feelings, we sea-faring folk,'' 

**For ocean sailors oft the ocean keeps," 
At eventide we make the homeport, 

Grassmere's Welcoming Arms and ground. 
And there we sing. Farewell Forever, 

To our Pilot homeward bound. 
The bar he's crossed and now heroic 

Looming in the sunset hue, 
Above his brow I see the laurel 

And our Pilot then I knew. 



Nature H7 



BERMUDA 

Canto I 

FAREWELL FOREVER 
Parting Song to Pilot 

Fare thee well and Oh^ forever 
May o«r parting song to thee^ 
On the sea of life and yonder, 
Wine of hope inspiring be* 

When the whelming waves are breaking 
With the Homeport lights a lee, 
There^s a Pilot ttnseen holding 
Sheltering arms that still the sea* 

0*er the harbor bar He^II ^uide thee 
Though it rages white with foam, 
To the Port we all must sail for, 
Where the lights are those of Home* 

Fare thee well and Oh, forever 

When the Homelight^s dim to thee. 
There's a Pilot unseen holding 
Sheltering arms that still the sea* 



148 Poems of the Aftermath 



BERMUDA 
Canto II 

The evening feast and Host are calling: 

Where with cheer and kindly thought, 
We forward look to great adventures 

And to find the Fleece long sought* 
In silence now spell-bound by Beauty 

We behold the rising Moon, 
With brush of rays turn darkness golden 

Till with Heaven we seem in tune* 
The resting hour makes sweet reproaches, 

For the bell has long since tolled, 
But still an old Bermudan Lady 

Charms us with her tales of old* 
To rest we go, it seems a moment. 

Till fair Dawn, with sea-damp kiss. 
Awakes us from a dreamless slumber 

Else the sunrise we might miss* 
All eager now for new adventures 

We're beguiled by Jehus wise. 
To drive in vehicles Victorian, 

OVr loveliest roads beneath the skies* 
Along a winding way we journey. 

Touching here and there a shore, 
That rims a bay whose crystal waters 

Picture sky as Ocean floor* 
A sudden turn and there before us 

Eli's Harbor, so 'tis called. 
All unbelievable in beauty 

Casts its spell and we're enthralled* 



i 



Nature 09 



BERMUDA 

Canto n 

And there, the tains of the mansion 

Of an ancient Trimmingham, 
Are reminiscent of the temples 

Seen in far-off Yucatan* 
Allured by tales of wondrous places^ 

Harrington's Sound a rare one's called. 
We seek its shore and pass the Lion, 

Fine old Rodin, stone installed* 
And list, Arabian Nights though wondrous. 

Never pictured bird so fair, 
As now wings o'er the emerald waters 

With a beauty strange and rare* 
All white with slender tail and graceful, 

As it curves in wild careen, 
Till it breasts the emerald waters 

When it wears a scarf of green* 
Around this lovely sheet of water 

Time for us unconscious fled, 
Until enticed by Nether Darkness, 

To the Devil's Hole we're led* 
How strange that from this habitation 

Caverns reach a *^sunless sea," 
Like *^sacred Alph's" in far-off China, 

Puzzling Kubla Khan and me* 
Still stranger was it and astounding 

When the Shepherd of the place, 
His finny flock now calls together. 

Smiling at my wondering face* 
For where was water darkly showing, 

When the Shepherd struck his rock, 
Behold unnumbered forms a-swimming, 

Lo, the fishes are his flock* 



J50 Poems of the Aftermath 

BERMUDA 
Canto II 

All hues they are and some chameleons, 

Finny demons, hungry all, 
A-swarming from the darkened cavern, 

Coming as to Neptttne^s calL 
To sunlight now and scenes more lovely 

Haste we on our joyous way. 
Where sea and shore with common beauty, 

Cast their spell and bid us stay^ 
We break the spell or stay forever. 

And reach again Saint George's strand. 
To look once more at Shinbone Alley, 

And Saint Peter's stairs so grands 
A common impulse now bestirs us, 

Looking from Saint David's hill. 
To venture where enticing southward 

Rests a land that beckons stilL 
It's there, we sing, the Fleece lies hidden, 

And we rest not till we go* 
Then chariots Victorian bear us 

To the Southland all aglow* 
At Walsingham's fine house we linger, 

Where Tom Moore so often stayed. 
And then go down in caves mysterious, 

Pluto's self would go dismayed* 
At last along the shore, called Beautiful, 

We make our swift uncharted way. 
By plants that bloom but once a century. 

And many a curving wondrous bay* 
From Tucker's Town to Ireland Island, 

Golden sands and coral shore. 
Resting on the Sea's broad bosom, 

Haunting us forevermore* 



Nature t5t 



BERMUDA 

Canto n 

And Devonshire's church, quaint and olden, 

With ^^God's Acre/' and the cedar tree, 
While shoreward fine old houses gleaming, 

Neptune's temples seem to be. 
To Spanish Point in fair old Pembroke, 

Once again we make our way. 
And pass with looks so queer and longing, 

Bedford Arms, so cool and gray* 
But pass we did to Hamilton Gardens, 

Fragrant still is that dear spot. 
And then to Stephano's old cavern 

With the Tempest in our thought* 
Near there the Welcoming Arms are lovely. 

And the mangrove roots, strange to me. 
Within the creek they call the Mangrove, 

Weird old armlet winding from the sea* 
On the roads of Paradise we wander 

To the Admiralty Grounds so fair to me, 
In their dignity and loveliness. 

On the coral marge of the turquoise Sea* 
To Fairyland our flight now winging. 

In the Eagle's Nest we rest awhile. 
And now in Grassmere, till the Steamer 

Takes us o'er the Homeward stile* 
The kindly life and courteous people 

Of Bermuda's garden isles, 
Still touch our hearts to friendly music. 

All along life's weary miles* 
And now our Northern Homeland's calling 

While the Fleece remains still hid. 
Though in adventures told and many others. 

All was done that Jason did* 



J 52 Poems of the Aftermath 



BERMUDA 

Canto n 

The day propitious comes for sailing, 

And the perfumed breezes blest, 
Caress me as I leave forever, 

Parting friend who came as guest* 
And now your verdant coral beauty, 

Jewel Cluster on the bosom of the Sea, 
Though lost to sight, is visioned deeper 

In the Aftermath through years to be* 
* « « « • 

Time flies swiftly by. 
And he who further reads, 
I shall to him unfold 
How, in the Aftermath, 
We found the Fleece of Gold* 

J92J-J922. 



Natttre J 53 



THE FLEECE OF GOLD 

At last the oil in Memory^s lamp burns low^ 

And pictures, on the vision's magic screen, 

Now rest, within the realm of sight unseen, 

Where deep the aftermath begins to gIow» 

Arising where the founts of wisdom flow, 

The aftermath of days that were serene. 

Brings up from somewhere in our mind's demesne, 

The truth about the Fleece we longed to know» 

A joyous truth, uprooting all despair. 

How sea and shore, and man and tree, all hide 

What we have sought* And there 'twill ere abide 

And lure men on, defiled with doubt and care. 

To find as we, the deeper joy to hold. 

That in all life lies hid, the Fleece of Gold* 

Sonnet VI* 
J92J-J922* 



OUR CRISIS 



SALVATION 
ALPHA AND OMEGA 



Our Crisis J59 



SALVATION 

"What answer unto life's dark riddle, does our age pro- 
pound ? 
What Sibyl greets us offering books, that tell us where 

'tis found? 
The hopeless Sphinx of Egypt is the guardian of a tomb, 
And Assyria's priests and temples, dust or fossils in 

Time's womb* 
One Star of dawn illumes the darkness of Egyptian 

Night, 
When a Pharaoh first visions clearly God and man 

aright* 
While in Chaldean Ur upon a mountain side at dawn, 
Before that Pharaoh was, a Hebrew nomad stands for- 
lorn 
Above a wooden altar, where he bows beneath the rod. 
And sacrificing all, he walks unterrified with God* 
On Aryan soil the Persian prophet lights his Sacred Fire, 
To teach to o'ercome Evil with the Good, man must 

aspire ; 
And in the East the Brahman through the many seeks 

the One, 
Striving for absorption, and through rites and caste to 

come 
To the nothing of Nirvana, and the end of all begun* 
Then the gentle Buddha lifts his lamp to light the Way, 
And renouncing all, he gaineth all and passes free from 
fray* 



J 60 Poems of the Aftermath 



SALVATION 

Now blossoms man's great need, in thought of Hindu, 

Greek and Jew, 
And in the Syrian Incarnation the world begins anew* 
Since then the great Semitic outburst for one God, whose 

prophet calls 
To a sensuous Paradise that Islam's soul enthralls* 
Now o'er the world the smooch and smut of war defile 

the lands, 
While Mammon, god of pelf, lifts on high his reeking 

hands 
As Freedom born anew, through war's awful sacrifice, 
Is cast in Moloch's arms and souls of men are loth to 

rise* 
How far it seems, from that great Spirit-life in old Judea, 
The world has swung* His heritage of Faith, from year 

to year. 
Comes down, the Fatherhood of God and the Brother- 
hood of man; 
And yet how often far astray from that, since time 

began. 
Mankind has gone* And now before the open Temple 

gates 
Our generation stands abased, with bated breath, and 

waits 
For some great Pentecostal tongue to lead with flaming 

speech. 
Our doubting souls, or we the inner Temple, ne'er shall 

reach* 

October, J922, 



Out Crisis J6J 



ALPHA AND OMEGA 

The master key 
Of Greater Freedom^ 

Spite of stratagem, 
Forever opes 

The golden portals 
Of the New Jerusalem* 

June, J922. 



